Because You Loved Me
by shelizabeth
Summary: AU- Emma decided not to give Henry up for adoption and is raising him on her own with no knowledge of her family or history. How would having Henry make Emma a different person by the time she's 28, and who would bring her back without the truest believer growing up in Storybrooke? 20 y/o Emma with toddler Henry. One-Shot companion pieces.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** new AU story! One-shot right now but depends on how much inspiration I get honestly. I am kind of interested in seeing how this change would affect Storybrooke and the curse, so we'll see.

Let me know what you think! Reviews definitely help with my inspiration, even though I haven't quite figured out why. I guess the idea people are actually reading it gets my mind turning? Interesting concept...

* * *

"Henry, please. Let me get some work done." Emma begged the toddler, who was knocking things off the counter as she spoke. "I guess not, huh?" she relented, getting up reluctantly.

Of course Henry was entering his terrible two's when he's barely eighteen months. He is her daughter after all. Emma's job allows her to work at home, which she thought would be better for Henry. Sometimes she found herself wishing she could go out though. She was a bail bonds person, but she didn't really get to find many people hands on. She did more of the hacking through computer technology type of stuff. It was fine, but it's easy to go stir crazy when your only company hasn't been alive for two years yet. It was dangerous territory thinking about that though, her lack of family and friends. All she needed was Henry.

"Alright buddy, what do you wanna do?"

Henry laughed, running away from Emma straight towards the coffee table. Before anyone could stop it, Henry was stopped by the thud of the table. Instantly his face collapsed into sobs, more of shock than actual pain.

"Uh-oh," Henry cried, one of his favorite sayings.

"Yeah, uh-oh, kiddo. Are you okay?" Emma asked, looking for marks on his knees or palms.

"Boo-boo." Henry said heartbreakingly sadly, looking at his finger as if it might fall off.

"Boo-boo, that's all?" Emma said, trying to show Henry it wasn't a big deal. "We can fix those easy." Emma held Henry's hand gently and kissed his finger. "See? It's not so bad anymore, is it?"

Henry looked at his mom, and at his finger, as if he was deciding. Finally, he shook his head. Emma sighed a breath of relief. She was still getting used to the parenting thing, and it's not like she much first hand experience in her life of what a mother was supposed to be like. She glanced at the clock, deciding she could be done with work for the night. She'd give Henry a bath and they'd watch a movie on the couch while he fell asleep. Henry still drank a bottle of milk at night when he got really tired, and Emma had no idea if she should try to wean him off it. She looked it up on the internet, and some people say it's completely fine and not to rush it, while others say they should be completely done with the bottle by 12 months. Just taking it away completely seemed cruel though, so she still gave him one at night.

"Come on, bud," Emma called, walking towards the narrow hallway to the bathroom. "Time for a bath." Emma was barely affording her two bedroom apartment, but she couldn't downsize comfortably. Her apartment was two bedrooms, one bath and a living room and kitchen. It had the essentials, but Emma couldn't help but feel sad at the idea of Henry growing up here forever. She wanted better for him, but she felt like she was in a rut. She couldn't imagine ever actually moving up in the world, because she couldn't imagine being able to ever do anything more than survive.

"No!" Henry answered, crossing his chubby arms across his chest. "No baf."

"I wasn't asking you Henry," Emma explained to her defiant son. "I was telling you that it is bath time."

"No baf," Henry tried again. Emma was already in the bathroom running the water. henry stood at the end of the hallway where the living room started, waiting for his mother's response. Emma pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking about how to handle it. She had read so many parenting magazines and articles online when she found out she was pregnant. One thing that was coming to mind about the terrible two's was that they didn't say no to be bad, but to test their limits. They were trying to figure out how far they could go.

"Henry, it's time for a bath. You can bring your duckies in with you, and if you listen to me, we'll watch a movie after. But either way, you're taking a bath, because I'm your mother, and I say you need one. Okay?" Emma looked at Henry, still standing at the end of the hallway. He looked at her if she was going to change her mind, and when he realized she wasn't, he slowly walked to the doorway of the bathroom.

"Thank you," Emma breathed, lifting his blue shirt, that read _Here Comes Trouble!_ across the front, over his head. His belly was baby soft and slightly protruding like a well-fed toddler. His arms were still chubby enough to have a slit for wrists where it looked like the circulation was being cut off. His eyes were big and brown and his eyebrows looked like he was always asking a question, which he usually was. "You're really cute, you know that?" Emma said, tickling his bare belly. Henry giggled, grabbing Emma's hand to stop her, but his hands were too tiny to overpower her.

"'top Mumma!" Henry ordered, still giggling beyond his control. "'top it!"

Emma smiled and lifted him into the bathtub, putting his ducks in there with him. Three ducks: a mama, a dada, and a baby. He always needed those three ducks.

"Are you tired?" Emma tried, just for fun, because she already knew the answer.

"No!"

"Do you want to watch a movie after bath time?"

Henry nodded his head once to emphasize his point. "Yes!"

"Okay," Emma mirrored his tone and head nod and laughed as she used a cup to rinse all the soap off him. "All done?"

"No." Henry stuffed the baby duck under the water and filled it up, the only one that could fill up and could be squeezed out. Every time Henry took a bath, he had to do it about a hundred times.

Emma let Henry play until his fingers wrinkled, then told him it was time to get out.

"No. Pay!"

"No play. It's time to get ready for bed." Emma lifted the water stopper so the bath water started draining, and it didn't take Henry long to figure it out and reach his hands out. "That's what I thought," Emma joked to her toddler son, who wasn't paying attention.

"Code!"

"I know you're cold," Emma said. "That's why we're going to get ready for bed." Emma carried Henry into his bedroom, her favorite room of the apartment. She couldn't do much about living in an a small apartment right now, but she could make Henry's room the best it could be. She had been able to paint it seafoam green and stencil Henry on the wall. He had an, incredibly expensive, oak wood crib-turned-toddler-bed and hardwood floors. Emma had worked hard on his room and kept it impeccably clean, already working with Henry on cleaning up toys when he's finished with them.

As Emma zipped up Henry's blue and brown striped footie pajamas, he let out a yawn and a tiny stumble.

"You're tired, baby," Emma said to the toddler with eyelids betraying him.

"No, movie."

"We can always watch a movie tomorrow. How about laying in your big boy bed and I'll read you a story?"

Henry thought about it for only a moment before falling forward into his mother's arms. She couldn't help but smile when she picked him up and tucked him into his bed.

"Goodnight my sweet boy," Emma said, pushing his brown hair up to give him a goodnight kiss on his forehead. His breathing was already steady, out like a light within moments. "I promise I'll figure it out for you. We'll find our way out of here someday. I'll do better for you." Emma gave him one last kiss to solidify her promise before turning the night light on and flipping the light switch down. He was growing up right in front of her.

He hadn't even asked for a bottle tonight.

* * *

"Dog," Emma said, pointing to the dog in the book. Henry stared blankly at his mother. "A dog says woof woof. Can you say that, Henry? Woof woof."

Henry stared at her. As Emma was giving up and about to try to get him to say meow, her cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Em, it's me. You busy?"

"I'm with Henry. What's up?"

"It's important."

Emma scrunched her nose while she was thinking. "Okay, hold on. Here Henry," Emma said, handing Henry the book she was reading to him. "Look at the pictures of all the animals for a few minutes." Emma got up and walked to the kitchen where she could still see Henry sitting on the couch with the book.

"Okay, what's so important?"

"I called my date and cancelled for tonight but I just went to Target and I RAN INTO HIM. I'm not kidding, I actually ran into him. Straight into his chest."

"And? Tell me he took a knife on you or something and that's why you're calling me."

"No Emma, it was just awkward."

"Katie, you told me it was important," Emma scolded her closest, and only friend, although she couldn't blame Katie. She had known Katie from high school. She was the exact opposite of Emma. She was light, funny, easy-going. She had grown up with wealthy parents and was attending an expensive college on the coast of North Carolina. Emma was dark and heavy hearted, and had to put college on hold when she got pregnant weeks before graduation. She was trying to take part time night classes at the community college, but it was just too hard to find a babysitter along with balancing work and school. So her focus became Henry, while Katie's focus remained being a teenager, going out, and worrying about running into boys at Target. Still, Katie was the only person who kept in touch with Emma, and she always visited Henry on school breaks.

"It's important to me," Katie defended. "How's the little guy?"

"He said moo earlier when we were looking at a cow."

"Pretty impressive," Katie joked.

"I thought so."

"Listen, I'm going to let you go. Call me later though, okay? I cancelled my date, so I'll probably be in for the night watching netflix."

"Sure," Emma laughed. "Bye Katie."

"Bye Emma. Bye Henry!" She called through the phone, not loud enough for Henry to even look up. Emma hung up and walked back over to Henry, who she had watched climb off the couch and move to his table with all types of simulation toys that was apparently good for his developing brain.

Emma figured while he was occupied she would try and get some work done. She opened her computer to check the assignments her boss had emailed to her for the week, groaning at how long the list was. She knew she'd have to pull at least one all-night so she could work straight through while Henry was sleeping. Maybe she could get some done now though. As soon as she opened a link he sent her, Henry started climbing on top of the coffee table he had bumped into the day before.

"Henry, get down! I'm serious!" Emma warned, but Henry didn't even look back. She got up and picked him up off the table and put him back on the floor. "Henry, please let me get some work done."

She tried to bargain, looking back at her computer. He had accepted the coffee table was off limits, and was moving behind the tv stand where all the plugs were. Emma jumped up to grab him before he got close enough to touch anything.

"I guess not, huh?"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Companion piece to the first part!:)

* * *

"I think something is wrong with him," Emma explained, staring at the doctor. He was middle aged and had little manners, but she was referred to him from the emergency room.

"Congrats on figuring that one out," he said mockingly. "Has he been acting out of the ordinary at all recently? Anything you noticed?"

"No, nothing. He was completely normal. All of a sudden he had this rash and he was wheezing. I rushed him here..."

He looked at her curiously. He clearly had no regard for manners and small politeness. "How old is he?"

"Eighteen months," Emma answered, almost relieved to have a question she could answer with confidence.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty."

"So you were eighteen, huh? That's kind of young to be having children, isn't it?"

"Is that relevant to Henry's health?" Emma challenged.

"Nope. He has a viral infection and had an allergic reaction. Treat the symptoms for the virus, and I'm guessing you gave him either dairy, peanut butter, or nuts before he came here. Since he can't eat peanut butter or nuts at eighteen months, I'm guessing it was dairy."

"No, I give him milk all the time and he loves it."

"Children can develop an intolerance," the doctor said with a bored tone, writing something on a pad.

"He was eating a cut up strawberry when it happened," Emma explained. "Could he be allergic to that?"

"Oral allergy syndrome is allergy to raw fruits and vegetables. I wouldn't push your luck and try it again. I'm prescribing an epipen in case it _does_ happen again and you can pick up allergy medicine over the counter at any pharmacy," he finished by ripping the piece of paper off his pad and handing it to Emma. "Take your time," he said sarcastically, leaving the exam room. Emma narrowed her eyes at the door, slightly shocked at his candor and abrasiveness.

"Let's go bud," Emma said, picking up Henry off the exam room table. The entire visit with the doctor had taken less than five minutes, but they were waiting for hours. She kissed his cheek and then held on to his chubby hand as they walked. "You scared me, you know that?"

"Boo!"

"No, not really like a ghost. A different kind of scare."

"Ohhhhh."

Emma smiled at his simple response, his accepting demeanor. He had so much trust in the world. When she saw him gasping for breath, she swore it felt like the world had frozen in place. She couldn't function, couldn't think. She was working on autopilot; she was rushing Henry into the car and straight to the hospital. The ride was torcherous. She alternated from sneaking glances at Henry in the rearview mirror, who was breathing more steadily but much too rapidly, and cursing herself for whatever she did wrong. For a few awful moments she imagined what would happen if something happened to him and how she would move forward. She thought about all the times Henry was a newborn when Emma imagined how easier life would be with a full nights sleep. She thought about all the times she talked to Katie about her exciting life in college and how many times she envisioned her life with a full scholarship to a school like Katie's. She thought about how many times she had imagined her life without Henry, until she realized she couldn't. She couldn't imagine her life without Henry. There was never any doubt in her mind she loved her son, but the idea of losing him made her start crying in the car. She had wiped her cheeks with one hand then stole another glance at Henry in the rearview mirror, not wanting him to see her cry, because she knew he would care more about that than his failing health.

When she grew up in the foster system, she didn't know much about love. She had considered love some type of taboo, figuring that it was too hard to ever truly love someone. It was the only thing she had to go on; love was hard. That's how she explained it to herself. Her parents abandoned her on the side of the road, the system failed her time and time again, because love was hard. You couldn't just love anybody, and that's why no one ever loved her. But Emma thought about Henry's excitement when she got him up in the morning and the way he looked at her, like she was somebody's hero, and she knew for sure one thing: love was the easiest thing in the world. She was reminded of that every time Henry crossed her mind.

* * *

Henry woke up in the middle of the night and was freezing. He had woken up from a terrible dream, one he had been having more and more frequently. He wanted to find his mom, but it was dark in his room save for the night light. He stared at the ceiling for a few moments before deciding there was a monster under his bed. The idea terrified him as became more and more sure of it, and he started bawling, hoping his mom would come.

"Henry? Are you okay?" Emma rushed into the room and flicked the lights on. She put her hand on his head when she got to his bed. "Oh Henry, you're burning up. I'm going to get more medicine, okay?"

"No, yucky."

"It may be yucky," Emma bargained, "but it's not so bad if you eat a little ice cream after it, is it?"

Henry looked suspiciously at his mother, as if he was trying to figure out if she was being serious or not.

"Monter under my bed," Henry explained with terror, looking his mother's legs that were kneeling down right in front of it.

"Is that why you were crying? You had a bad dream?" Henry nodded, trying not to cry again thinking about it. "Well, there's no monster in this house. You know how I know that?" Emma asked, causing Henry to shake his head with interest. "Because of how much I love you. You see, monsters can't get into places when there's so much love around. It's like a forcefield. So we'll always be protected, because I love you enough to keep _all_ the monsters out. Every single one."

Henry seemed to think this was perfectly logical and smiled in relief, signifying he felt better. Emma returned the smile and picked him up, realizing he wet through his pull-up.

"Let's get you cleaned up, bud. Then a little ice cream, but that's it."

"Seep in the big bed?" Henry asked, using big bed to signify Emma's bed. She was trying to get him to sleep in his big boy bed as often as she could, but he had a bad dream tonight. Plus it would be easier than making him wait for his washed sheets, which Emma was peeling off with one hand, while the other held Henry.

"Okay. Just for tonight."

Henry seemed in a much better place after medicine and the steam from hot water in the bathroom. He was clean and freshly tired, his eyelids fluttering with the promise of sleep.

Emma laid in the darkness of her room, the light from the muted tv flashing in the corner of her eye because Henry was afraid of complete darkness still. She was thinking about the sound of the dryer turning around Henry's sheets, thinking about what they were going to do tomorrow and how she would be able to get her work done for the week, thinking about how she was going to afford the repair for the pipe under the bathroom sink when it finally gave out. She tried to close her eyes, but she couldn't stop thinking about how they were going to make it.

"Nunights Mumma," Henry said out of nowhere, his little voice traveling through the darkness, becoming a small source of light.


End file.
